


Normality is underrated

by YvonneSilver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s11e08 Just My Imagination, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 18:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YvonneSilver/pseuds/YvonneSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sully was so shockingly normal compared to the other Zanna, Dean couldn't help but wonder why Sam would choose this guy to be his imaginary friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Normality is underrated

They’d been driving for about an hour when out of the blue Dean looked over at Sammy and said “Okay, I give up, what’s the deal with Sully?”

Confused, Sam looked over at his brother, who had his gaze fixed sternly on the road again. He waited for more explanation to follow the sudden question. When it didn’t, he crossed his arms and fixed Dean with a defensive stare. “What do you mean, “what’s the deal with Sully”?”

Dean rolled his eyes, exasparated at having to put these ridiculous thoughts into words at all. This had been a weird-ass case from the start, and Dean just wanted to forget all about it, but something had been nagging at him. “All these imaginary watchamacallits, they all had a thing, right? There was the sparkly manicorn, and the chick with the fishtail, and the dude with the actual airguitar. But Sully, he seemed like just, y’know, a guy. So what’s so special about him that he got to be your bff?”

Sam had not been expecting that question. He looked away self-consciously, trying to swallow the lump that was starting to form in his throat. For a while he just watched the streetlamps flit by. Finally he folded his hands into his lap, and whispered “Nothing.”

Dean cast a worried glance at his brother, looking suddenly very young squashed into the passenger seat of the impala, but he didn’t say anything. He knew Sam would talk when he was ready.

And sure enough, after a couple of beats of silence, Sam heaved a heavy sigh. “He was just, there, y’know.” He said, wiping imaginary crumbs off the dashboard. “Sully always took me seriously. He listened to me whenever I needed to talk.”

“Hey! I listened to you all the time!.” Dean interrupted indignantly.

 

They were silent for a while after that, only the rattling of the engine and the hum of the tires on the road filling the car. It was Sam who broke the silence, a placating note in his voice. “We never really had an apple-pie life, Dean. I just wanted someone normal to talk to. You were there for me when I needed to talk about weapons, or hunting tactics, or monster lore. With Sully I talked about… other things.”

Dean didn’t quite seem mollified by that explanation. “You could’ve talked to me about other stuff.” He pouted. “But it’s good you had someone, well some _thing_  else to talk to.”

Sam gave him a quick half-smile and went back to staring out the window, glad to drop the subject. His thoughts wandered to the many times he and Sully had spent the day talking. Sam doubted Dean would have been as indulgant in the “what-would-you-like-to-be-when-you-grow-up” games. Or the “if-you-weren’t-a-hunter-what-kind-of-house-would-you-like-to-live-in” fantasies. Or the “what-do-you-think-my-mother-was-like” conversations.

Sully had been the perfect mix of grown-up and childlike for young Sam to speak to, and a good enough person to always be willing to listen. That was enough of a miracle for Sam.


End file.
